Been Waiting For So Long
by YouThinkYouNoeMe
Summary: Trish worries over some unanswered questions concerning her relationship with John. CharactersPairing: John CenaTrish Stratus


**Title: Been Waiting For So Long **

**Rating:R**

**Warnings: Strong Language**

**Characters-Pairing: John Cena-Trish Stratus**

**Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, I own nothing.**

**Notes:Title of this story was inspiredby the song 'Don't Let Me Be The Last To Know' by Britney Spears. Reviews are greatly appreciated.**

A large balcony perched out of the ninth floor suite in a luxurious resort. A perfect view of the calming waves crashing up against the sandy shore. A light breeze coming off the ocean. A gorgeous man lying in her bed. All the elements of a perfect vacation. But Trish felt no bliss. Her forehead creased with a frown, all traces of the smile that had been there before long gone.

Their vacation in paradise was just that. Other than a sporadic thunderstorm, which always cleared in a matter of minutes, the weather was gorgeous. The downtime gave them the ultimate break to relax from their hectic schedules on the road. Every moment they spent together was perfect. Things between them felt so right… which only reminded her of how wrong they truly were. She told herself to give him a chance, that things would change on their own. But halfway through their fabulous vacation, she realized that they hadn't.

Trish heard the glass door slide open behind her, but she remained still. She refused to let John see the tears that had built in her eyes. She quickly blinked them back, batting her eyes dry. Though she felt his presence, she ignored it.

"Why you out here all by yourself?" John asked, his voice raspy from sleep.

Trish bit back a groan. If only he didn't sound so damn sexy. Then maybe she wouldn't feel the need to jump him every time he opened his mouth.

"You were sleeping," she replied, without turning her head to face him. She couldn't look at him. She'd melt if she did.

A yawn escaped John's lips as he reached up to grip the top of the doorway and he stretched his arms out. He stepped onto the balcony and pulled the door shut. He came up behind Trish, placing his strong arms around her as he rested his head on her shoulder.

"Ain't no point in sleepin' when you not in bed wit me," he mumbled tiredly. He smiled to himself, nuzzling her neck. "So, whaddya say, want some company?"

Trish shrugged, offering him a weak smile. She fell into his arms, resting her weight against him, her eyes closing. He smelled _so_ good.

John placed his chin on her shoulder, biting his lip. Something was wrong. Despite the fact that she accepted his embrace, he sensed she was holding back from him. She seemed uncomfortable being held by him. The notion was unsettling.

"What's on your mind, Trish?" he asked her. Once again, he was met with a silent shrug. John groaned. She'd been acting this way since they got back from dinner earlier. He let go of her, backing away in a huff. She stumbled a bit, and he waited till she sent him a look. "Aight then, when you wanna talk to me like a normal adult, lemme know. I'm done playin' games tonight."

He turned for the door, but Trish caught his eye. She whipped her head around, sending him a look that he knew meant he'd struck a nerve.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" she snapped, her eyes narrowing. John leaned against the door, crossing his arms over his bare chest. "You know I don't play games, John. And don't look at me like I've got three heads. You know damn well that somethin's been up since we got here."

"Yeah, and what's up is I've been treatin' you like a fuckin' princess every day, only to come back here every night to you treatin' me like shit," he told her forcefully. He was hurt and mad at her… but he couldn't keep his eyes off of her. Just like every other emotion, Trish made angry look beautiful. His expression twisted into one of angst. "Is that how things're gonna be wit us, Trish?"

Trish's gaze softened immediately. She hated the way a single look from him made her lose all of her thoughts and fears. She wondered if he knew how powerful his eyes were. She shook the thoughts out of her head. She had to ignore his charm and get to her point before he made her forget it again.

"That's not how I want it to be," she spoke after a brief hesitation. "But I don't know how _you_ want it to be. John, ever since we hooked up, we never stopped to discuss what we are, or what we have."

John's ears perked up, and he lifted himself from the door. Now they were getting somewhere. He slid a nearby chair underneath him, taking a seat. Folding his hands together and dropping them in his lap, he rested forward and stared up at her.

"You know you're my girl…" he began.

"That's just it though, John. I don't know what that means," Trish explained, leaning on the balcony railing. "I've been your 'girl' since the day we became friends. So much has changed between us, and I'm still just your girl? Just same ol' Trish, only now we're having sex?"

"You know it's not like that," John replied, shaking his head. "Things _are_ different between us. You're not just my friend anymore."

"Then what am I?" she asked, her words coming out a little shakier than she'd hoped. "For the past five weeks you've been buying me things, taking me places, holding my hand while we walk down the street, telling me how beautiful I look." She paused to pick at an imaginary piece of fuzz on her cotton pajama pants. "You've sent death stares to any man who looks in my direction, and yet you still haven't called me your girlfriend, or mentioned me as such to anyone."

John frowned, a strong sense of guilt bubbling in him. He knew he hadn't been open about his feelings verbally. To be honest, he hoped his gestures would be enough. He didn't want to admit that he had fallen hard. He didn't want anyone, especially not Trish, to have that type of power over him. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his hair.

"I don't rush into things," he shrugged. There was much he could say, so much he _wanted_ to say. But when it came to relationships, he was a man of few words. It was the one topic that got him to shut up. "I'm not gon' let myself fall head over heels only to get burned a few weeks later."

Trish sighed. His speech sounded all too familiar. It was the same thing she told herself when she was denying her feelings. It was what she tried telling herself all week… until tonight. Tonight, she realized that she was not satisfied just pretending to be John's girlfriend. She never thought the title mattered to her, but it did.

"You're preaching to the choir," she reminded him. Their fear of commitment was what drew them together, after all. It was easy to be with someone who was just as afraid to admit their feelings. "I'm not askin' for a wedding. I just want to know what's going on between us. I wanna be on the same page as you."

"I-I don't know, Trish. I'm not trynna look for explanations on why things happen," John said. "I'm just livin' my life…"

"That is just a bullshit excuse so you don't have to deal with reality," Trish quipped. "What do I have to do to hear your feelings? We've spent an entire month side by side. I've met your family. We've spent weekends at your parents' house. Is this a numbers thing? How many times do I have to fuck you before I achieve girlfriend status?"

"Don't make this about sex," John said firmly. He knew his reputation, and until he met Trish, it wasn't totally inaccurate. But she knew the _real_ John, and the fact that she still made assumptions about his motives offended him. "You question whatever else you want, but not my intentions. What we got runs deeper than how long or how often we're doin' it. I might be easy, but I'm no scumbag."

"Then I don't understand what's keeping you from me. You can't just assume we're together or not together." Trish stopped, turning her back to him. She gazed out over the ocean, watching as a bolt of lightning flashed in the distance. "We used to really talk, John. But since this thing with you and me started, we haven't. I want you to talk to me."

"Whadd'ya want me to say?" John responded quickly, jumping up from his chair. "That you make me feel so many things I don't know where to start? That I get dizzy every time I look at you, every time you touch me? That being around you makes me happier than I've ever been?" He paused when he saw her shoulders shake. He grabbed her arms, twirling her to face him as he stared into her teary eyes. "That I'm fallin' for you so hard and so fast… and that I'm fuckin' petrified of what'll happen if I fall till I hit the ground…"

Her jaw dropped as she stared in silence. In one minute, John had said more than he had in an entire month. She held her eyes open until they were so blurred with moisture she could no longer see. She blinked, and before the first tear hit her cheek, John scooped her into his arms and squeezed her tightly. Trish sniffled after a mix of a sigh and a sob escaped her throat, and she hugged his waist. She could feel his body trembling against hers, and she knew that everything he said was true.

"John," she sniffed, looking up at him as her vision cleared. "Now _I_ don't know what to say."

"Then don't say a word, baby," he told her, his eyes locking with hers. "Just stand here and let me hold you and show you that sometimes actions really do speak louder than any words I can stumble over."

Trish smiled, nodding as she placed her head on his chest. She listened to his heart beating as he rocked back and forth with her in his arms. John glanced down at the small table beside them, a smile playing on his lips.

"You were right about somethin', ya know. Let's do this thing right," he said, pushing away slightly. Trish cocked her head to the side as he bent down and picked up the plastic ring from the lid of her empty Snapple bottle. He dropped down to his knees before her, snatching her hand. "So," he murmured, slipping the plastic over her ring and middle fingers, "you wanna be my girlfriend?"

The loose plastic ring slipped right off her hand, only to swept up by the wind and carried towards the shoreline. Trish watched it disappear, and then burst into laughter when she saw the crushed look on John's face. She got down on her knees as well, sliding her arms around him.

"Hopefully that's not an omen," she joked. She pressed her lips to his, responding with a kiss. John cupped her face in his large hands, smiling when she pulled away. "But to answer your question – yes, I'd be honored."

John yelled out a loud yes, only cheering louder when Trish placed a finger on her lips. She tried to silence him, only to succumb to giggles herself. John ultimately shut both of them up when he kissed again, this time more passionate than the first. He groaned when she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, and she smiled.

As John lifted them from the floor and carried her back into the room, Trish was content. She was certain that one day they would find themselves in the same predicament, and that she would be just as angry. But for the moment, Trish basked in the comfort of knowing that John's feelings and what they had was real. _They_ were real.

THE END.


End file.
